


I Am Nobody (phan)

by MySecretsX



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29842722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MySecretsX/pseuds/MySecretsX
Summary: COMPLETE***I am nobody and I'm nobody that matters. I'm alone, neglected by everyone and worthless. I want something, something crazy, something that's dangerous to get. But I will.Most would call me a psycho, but that's far from it. I'm so hurt and so full of emotion, which is exactly the reason I've decided to do this.Do what exactly?Stalk him 'til he loves me.I'm reasonably popular, I wouldn't say famous, on the internet. I have my little community and as long as I'm making someone happy, even myself, making these videos is worth it.There's this one guy, though, that's constantly trying to get my attention, and succeeding for that matter. I've been warned he's dangerous and I should take the hints and stay away, but I've never been one to listen. And, I see something in this kid, he's hurt, and I will help him.With what exactly?Whatever he wants.
Relationships: Dan Howell & Phil Lester, Dan Howell/Phil Lester





	1. Structure

**Author's Note:**

> I am nobody and I'm nobody that matters. I'm alone, neglected by everyone and worthless. I want something, something crazy, something that's dangerous to get. But I will.Most would call me a psycho, but that's far from it. I'm so hurt and so full of emotions, which is the reason I've decided to do this.  
> Do what exactly?  
> Stalk him til he loves me.
> 
> I'm reasonably popular, I wouldn't say famous, on the internet. I have my little community and as long as I'm making someone happy, even myself, making these videos is worth it.  
> There's this one guy, though, that's constantly trying to get my attention, and succeeding for that matter. I've been warned he's dangerous and I should take the hints and stay away, but I've never been one to listen. And, I see something in this kid, he's hurt, and I will help him.  
> With what exactly?  
> Whatever he wants.
> 
> Please read this story with caution. Throughout the story there will be numerous mentions of depression, control, suicide, eating disorders, abuse, rape and self-harm. If you continue to read on, hold on for the ride.
> 
> This is, I Am Nobody.

****

**Dan**

It's not that I think I'm special. I don't think I deserve the world and the attention of everyone in it. Fuck, I don't deserve anything.

But I'm different. You wouldn't see me and think that, not unless you can read the thoughts of someone from inside their head before they've spoken them, or _if_ they speak them. I think differently to everyone else. I have unique concepts and perceptions to take of the world and the people in it. I have more in-depth thoughts than the common person and I process things differently, interpreting the deeper meaning to everything.

I'm an observer. I don't like to actively participate in anything. From that I'm referring to the basic socialisation a human undertakes, to functioning as a regular slave of the world and go to the shops. Instead, I watch people and analyse them. I take in their performances and actions, criticising their personnel and who they desire to be. You learn a lot from observing, and if you're not comfortable with being, watching others tends to be an easier route.

I often like to sit at the window in a coffee shop or my house, staring at passerbys. I first notice their appearance, as most would, in the basic format of their face shape, body figure, hairstyle and colour. I then look at their clothing and what they're wearing. I tend to move on to analysing this information from here, converting the way they present themselves in their style and dress, into who they could be as a person and their mental state. Their walk comes as a factor under this, whether they've hunched their shoulders, bent their knees, walking at a fast pace or strolling along merrily. It sounds strange thought out in those steps, but take the chance to observe these yourself and you'd have a thorough idea of whom the person was before they stuttered a word to you.

I believe the world is a corrupt place and is destroying its own life. The government has too much control on us and is manipulating our minds. The school system is flawed and is causing more issues to children than solving. We have no purpose to exist and there is no such thing as fate, we are just waiting to die.

I want to make the most of the short life I have to live on this planet, providing as much productivity in my time as possible. As a result, I have a timetable to my week.

Weekdays (Monday to Friday):  
I wake up to my alarm at 7:45am.  
I get out of bed at 7:50am.  
I get myself dressed and washed until 8:15am.  
I eat breakfast (a bowl of crunchy nut with 100ml of milk in) until 8:30am.  
I leave the house at 8:30 to walk to school.  
I arrive at school at 8:50.  
I register at 9:00, then follow the school timetable for the day.  
At lunch (1:00pm) I consume half a ham sandwich with an apple and a bottle of water.  
School ends at 3:15pm.  
I walk home, arriving at 3:35pm.  
I cook dinner (a single mashed potato with a tablespoon of peas and one sausage) until 3:45pm.  
I eat dinner until 4:00pm, with half a glass of water.  
I have a shower until 4:20pm.  
I dry myself and get changed into night clothes until 4:30pm.  
I do my homework until 6:00pm.  
I am on my computer until 8:30pm.  
I stare out the window until 9:30pm.  
I get into bed and relax until 9:45, hopefully falling asleep by 10:00pm.

Weekends (Saturday and Sunday):  
I wake up to my alarm at 9:00am.  
I have a shower at 9:05am.  
I get out the shower at 9:15am.  
I get dried and dressed until 9:30am, wearing a black pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt.  
I eat a slice of toast with a teaspoon of butter at 9:30am.  
I put on music and go for a walk at 9:40am.  
I return home and go into my bedroom at 10:30am.  
I am on my computer until 12:00pm.  
I get lunch (two scrambled eggs with an apple) at 12:00pm.  
I return to my computer from 12:30pm.  
I get dinner (the same as weekdays) at 4:00pm.  
I have a shower at 4:30pm.  
I return to my room and go on my computer at 4:50pm.  
I stare out the window at 9:00pm.  
I go to bed at 9:30pm.  
I fall asleep by 10:00pm.

My mum thinks it's impractical, but I abide by it anyhow since we both know she has little control over what I do. My dad was removed from our inhabitance when I was eleven for abuse to my mum and I, six and a half years ago. Coming to think about it, he always kept a very firm order on mine and mum's routine, so when he left it seems likely that I adopted my structure I enforced for myself because of the sudden change in routine. I've been following the timetable thoroughly since I was twelve, without a single change to the timings and activities. I dread leaving school as this will provide me with much more time to fill independently. I have little knowledge on what I'd like to fill the gaps with as well.

It was a Saturday evening, while I was on my laptop, that I stumbled across a new YouTube channel. I'd been watching people on the platform for many years, even considering creating my own videos for a while, but I realised that wouldn't fit in with my routine. So instead of talking to a camera, I took up the activity of trying to locate and manipulate users of the social media platform, including some of its creators. I wasn't planning to do anything with the information, nothing more than simply informing my victim I had this and once confirmed, I ignored them. I'd received multiple restraining orders and had somewhat of a criminal record with the police, but nothing as large of a concern which I'd let myself deal with.

It took not much longer than a few scans of his videos and analysis of his personality that I'd decided this new channel could be my next victim. He seemed naive, manipulable and thoughtless enough in his presentation of his character to be a good challenge for myself.

So, without any further adieu, I'd concluded my next puppet would be 'AmazingPhil'.


	2. Watching

**Dan**

I will be nothing, am nothing and have never been anything. My life on this planet will cause no significant difference to anyone who inhabits it, so therefore my point of living is nonexistent. In conclusion, I am wasting my own time and the world's time by trying to breathe through the days I walk through. That's why I have made the decision that once I am done with Phil Lester, I am too done. That is my final decision.

I made this decision as I was wandering down the stairs, heading to the kitchen where my mum was preparing herself some food to eat for dinner. I heard her audibly sigh, observing her wipe her forehead as she placed her hands on the counter-top. She scrunched her face before relaxing it again and turning her body to face me with a forced smile plastered onto her cheeks.

'I have cooked you a meal Dan, I am putting it in front of you as you eat your own. You don't have to eat it, but if you want to it's your decision.' she often did this, but not once in the eight-hundred and fifty-two (now fifty-three) times she tried it had I once accepted the offer.

'I don't have to eat it?'

'No, but I would like it if you did.'

'No thank you.' I finalised, collecting the ingredients for my meal from the various cupboards. She licked her lips, taking a breath before speaking again.

'The social worker will be visiting tomorrow, when would you like her to come?'

'Is it Allison or Jamie?'

'Jamie.'

'Shame, I preferred Allison.'

'Yes, well you got a restraining order on her, didn't you?'

'Hm.' I agreed, shoving the food in the oven as I stood up straight, 'It is a Saturday tomorrow so anytime when I'd be on the computer, preferably at the beginning or end of that allotted time.'

She pierced her lips, smiling as she placed the plate of food down for me on the table. She left the room, closing the door behind her as she did so. That was another thing, all doors had to be constantly shut and every light had to be on until I was asleep. The second one was more for my fear of the dark, but I was yet to admit that to any counsellor of mine.

I finished up my meal and scraped the plate, continuing to ignore the other pile of food on the wooden table. I headed upstairs, pulling out my laptop once I did so.

_AmazingPhil._

I loaded up every web browser of his social media that I could locate, but he actively linked across the platforms so I doubted highly I missed any. Thankfully, his channel was still reasonably small meaning that he didn't have too many followers to scan through before I found a couple of family members. Through these, I accessed Phil's personal accounts, the most important one being Facebook. That one was easy as I'd found his brother on his Twitter followers, then searching the name on Facebook. Once done, I searched through this 'Martin's friend list, finding a 'P.Lester'.

I was in. He frequently updated areas in which he travelled, recent locations being parks, for example. Through his personality in his videos, he made it reasonably obvious he was an introvert and therefore was presumably posting _whenever_ he went somewhere mildly entertaining.

I started jotting basic information down on a piece of paper, making sure I wouldn't miss anything crucial. From this point with his locations, I'd concluded he had lived in Rossendale but was now in York. I scrolled through his media, finding various images of parties and drunken nights, which allowed me to sensibly conclude he was attending university in York.

The place where they love their geese.

I smiled, taking down all this information and links from pages. I checked the time on the corner of the screen, finding it to be rapidly approaching 8:30pm. I slipped the notebook pages into a draw and closed it, knowing it'd be a particularly bad idea to have them on open view with Jamie on her way tomorrow. I didn't want them taken away.

For the last five minutes, I turned my attention to one of Phil's videos, further analysing his personality through his speech and actions. The subjects he chose to speak about were little of importance to who he actually was, since he could talk about anyone and anything as long as he had researched a bit of information on it. Therefore, these such things were irrelevant to knowing who he was.

I closed the laptop screen, wandering to the chair I placed at the window and sat at it, arms crossed as I glared through the glass. I wasn't expecting a pair of feet to even touch the pavement on my road, so was reasonably surprised when around nine a boy in his mid-teens was pacing across, hood up and hands in pockets. I stared at him, raising my finger to the cold material as I let a tap ring across the surface. He stopped, turning towards me as he took out an earphone. We held each other's gaze, him eventually shaking his head and rushing off again.

I sighed, moving my body over towards to warm confinements of my bed. I shuffled in, rolling onto my stomach as I let my thoughts take over my mind.

Jamie was around thirty, brown-haired with green eyes. She had tanned skin, but hardly able to be classified more than mid-toned. Her jaw was quite sharp and she always wore a tinted lip-gloss which pronounced her eyes more with the purple tone of it. She had two sons, whom I'd never met but she'd shown me pictures of them. They were around six and eight years old. The six-year-old was adopted by her with her husband, Matt. She was a lovely person in general, but I preferred Allison who was around fifty years old and much less qualified for her job. I don't mean this as a negative, I preferred it this way as it meant she overlooked more details to my life and surroundings than Jamie did. I could get away with more things with her around.

Every session Jamie began with a talk with my mum, receiving basic information and whatever things my mum wanted to share with her. These would be from contact with my father (which we continued to have none of), her general well-being, my well-being, our structure of the day and any changes we experienced. She would then approach me in my room, sitting on the chair by my window, discussing with me my school, routine, my dad, my health (both mental and physical) and anything I wanted to talk to her about. She was a counsellor within the social worker service, meaning she had a more in-depth confidentiality promise. Therefore she couldn't say anything to anyone if I rambled to her about anything. I'd sometimes bring up the most outrageous subjects to make the time I spent with her more amusing. After an hour and fifteen minutes of being in the house, an hour of which was normally spent talking to me, she'd quickly take my measurements (and complain how I was still eating too little and persuade me to consume more), make some notes and leave.

The whole service was enforced when social services got involved with my dad, they only expected to be around for six months. Six years later from our first visit they still continued to visit me and would until I turned into an adult, where they'd then try to manoeuvre me onto an adult counselling programme. That wouldn't be necessary however as I wasn't going to experience my eighteenth birthday. Four months away.

They stuck around because of my 'abnormal habits and routines' which I'd adopted when my dad was arrested. They tried to help me out of them, but seemingly have given up now and just check I'm not up to dangerously illegal stuff or dead. I don't mind, they've stopped trying to tell me I'm depressed, which was the only annoying part to the visit, therefore I'm neutrally opinionated on them walking into my house every four weeks.

I let out a yawn, turning onto my side as I relaxed my body into my covers. Tomorrow, I'd live another day.


End file.
